


Romance at the Hanami: Friday, Introductions

by junko



Series: the distance between us [14]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:30:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji has a harrowing run-in with a Kuchiki auntie, while he and Byakuya try to figure out if they can *just* sleep in the same bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romance at the Hanami: Friday, Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> I am now officially making stuff up--specifically the as-yet unnamed Kuchiki matchmaking auntie. 
> 
> I've decided to set up the Byakuya/Renji "date" to the Hanami, the Cherry Blossom Festival, as it's own mini-series. I'm still linking it to "The Distance..." but all of the installments will begin with "Romance at the Hanami..." so if you absolutely can't stand even the slightest bit of AU, you may skip these.

Renji felt silly walking beside the Kuchiki palanquin in full dress uniform. Especially since Byakuya insisted he wear his hair down in an effort to make his tattoos less conspicuous, least he frighten the nobles. That meant he spent much of the long, hot march to the Imperial Gardens pushing his stubborn locks out of his eyes. Blowing a particularly irritating strand from his face for the third time, he sighed. If he didn’t suspect Byakuya secretly liked it this way, he’d totally cut it all off.

The only nice part of being part of the Kuchiki entourage was that there was hardly any family that outranked them, so they always got to be at the head of the line. The roads were clogged with lesser aristocrats who were expected to pull off to the side to let one of the Four “True First” families pass.

Unfortunately, this also seemed to mean that for the first leg of their weekend “date,” Renji really wasn’t much more than a glorified valet. When the palanquin finally came to a stop, he retrieved the stepping block and held open the door for Byakuya.

As he exited, the captain spared him the briefest glance, which Renji was beginning to be able to interpret. This look was full of admonishment, a sort of silent “I hope you remember all the etiquette we went over.” To which, Renji gave the briefest nod in return as he fell into step behind Byakuya.

This weekend was going to be interminable.

 

#

 

After what seemed like hours, introductions and formal greetings were finally over and Byakuya and Renji were shown to the guest quarters. It was a suite, actually, befitting Byakuya’s station, no doubt. Renji had never seen a place so huge and fine, with cherry wood beams and exquisite fusuma panels painted with fantastic, detailed garden scenes. Their rooms also had access to a small, private interior courtyard. A cool breeze drifted in, bringing with it the strong scent of cherry blossoms.

Tea and refreshments were set out on a low table. All the travel packs and trunks had already been delivered and unpacked by what Renji could only imagine as some kind of horde of invisible servants.

Only after their guide had backed out with a low bow and knelt to slide the door shut with the whisper of rice paper, did Renji hear Byakuya let out a soft sigh of relief. “Tomorrow will be easier,” Byakuya said, settling down in front of the tea service. “Though I’m afraid there’s a tea ceremony I can’t avoid.”

“Gods,” Renji said. Leaning against the door frame, he held his hair away from his face with his hands. “You don’t seriously expect me to sit through one of those, do you?”

“No. Even if the invitation had extended to you, I know your limits, Renji. Though it’s rather a shame. Done right, they can be very intimate.”

Intimate?

Renji frowned. He was still trying figure out their relationship. Clearly sex—all sorts of sex--was a part of it. After that, it became a mysterious tangle. Sometimes Renji was convinced Byakuya found him annoying at best, or at worst, some kind of untamed ape that sullied the entire reputation of the Sixth Division.

Then there were rare, precious moments like this, when the captain apparently welcomed, even craved, some kind of familiarity. But you could never be sure with Byakuya. Getting close could be prickly business. Renji still hadn’t even dared to call his captain by his first name even in the throes of passion, because it was impossible to know what the reaction would be. Kuchiki-sama was probably safe, but there was no way Renji was going to call a lover “Lord” while getting fucked.

“You could stop glaring and join me,” Byakuya said, gesturing at the table. “We have the evening to ourselves. I’m not required anywhere until the morning.”

Renji made his way over to the table and plopped down, cross-legged on the floor opposite Byakuya. His stomach growled noisily and he was disappointed to see only tiny, delicate confections on the plates.

“Do you plan to brood the entire weekend?” Byakuya asked, reaching across the table to pour Renji some tea.

“Possibly,” Renji shrugged, as he picked out a few of the more substantial-looking deserts and placed a few on Byakuya’s plate before filling his own. “I’m not used to this high class living, that’s all.”

“I’d hoped you might enjoy it, but instead it appears to make you grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy. I’m just… out of place.”

“Not at all,” Byakuya insisted. “There are plenty of soldiers here.”

“As retainers,” Renji noted, poking his chopsticks into a brown sticky bun of some variety, trying to fathom what was in it. “Or servants… or bodyguards.”

“That’s manjū,” Byakuya said, ignoring Renji’s comment and focusing on the food he was manhandling, instead. “You should stop killing it, and try eating it. You’re fond of bean paste, after all.”

The little bun turned out to be pretty good, though the buckwheat in the crust gave it an unexpectedly dense flavor. The tea that Renji tried next was even more surprising. Renji forgot to be irritated, and he breathed: “How is it even possible that this smells like orchids… and tastes even more delicate?”

Byakuya smiled lightly. “Yes, see, this is what I wanted for you. Just try enjoying a little luxury for once.”

 

#

 

After they ate their fill and left the tea tray in the hall for servants to whisk away, Renji found himself uncertain what came next. He was tired enough that, if he were on his own, he’d collapse into his cot for an early evening nap.

But Byakuya beckoned him onto the little porch overlooking the courtyard. The captain had taken a moment to remove the kenseikan and change into what was for him a simple kimono. The robe was a fine amber silk, with humming birds embroidered along the edges. “Come,” he said, “There’s enough privacy with the shoji screens for us to be together.”

They sat on a cushioned bench. Once settled, Byakuya reached out and took Renji’s hand into his own.

Renji couldn’t quite suppress a little laugh.

“What?” Byakuya snapped.

“You’re holding my hand. That’s just… cute.”

Byakuya snatched his hand away, and tucked both into the folds of his sleeves. He frowned at the wall. “Honestly. Why _did_ I bring you?”

Renji gave Byakuya a side-long glance, and then threw an arm around the captain’s narrow shoulders. He pulled him in close, and kissed the top of his head. “Because, even though I annoy the shit out of you, I’m more interesting than all these rich bores you’re surrounded by.”

Renji could feel Byakuya relax into his embrace with a soft sigh. “True.”

They sat in silence as the sun set slowly. Even though there was only a solitary cherry tree in the courtyard garden, it had been festooned with tiny paper lanterns. Tree frogs peeped in branches covered in light-pink blossoms, and the sound of a nearby water feature gurgled softly. At some point, Byakuya’s hand emerged from hiding to rest casually against Renji’s thigh.

Renji tilted his head back and let his eyes half-close. This was nice. It felt surprisingly good to have Byakuya leaning into him, close and warm. His hand had drifted to Byakuya’s waist and his fingers absently stroked the smooth silk of the robe’s tie. As the light faded, fireflies sparked and flashed in the green shoots of grass. If only it could be like this forever, Renji sighed to himself. His eyes started to drift shut.

“Byakuya-chan!”

There was suddenly only wind underneath Renji’s arm. Renji blinked open his eyes. Across the small courtyard, crouching on the roof, he could just barely make out Byakuya’s form. The captain was making a shooing motion with his hands.

Seriously?

Renji pulled himself to his feet with a grunt. Time to rebuff some suitor or something.

“There you are, darling,” came a sing-song, feminine voice, but when Renji turned to see who had spoken, the gentle greeting turned into a squeal of fear. “Oh! Who are you?”

The woman staring in horror at Renji wore a _kakeshita_ , a long-sleeved kimono with a padded, trailing hem of the deepest indigo silk. Along the back and on each sleeve was embroidered the Kuchiki crest. Her pure white hair was bound in several intricate braids and loops, each held in place by a glittering blue-jeweled pin. Could this be the legendary auntie?

Before Renji could answer her question, however, she snapped, “Where is my nephew? I was assured that these were his private suites.”

“They are. He’s… out,” Renji said simply. It was, after all, true.

“Why is someone like you skulking around here? The servants’ quarters are downstairs.”

“I’m the Adjutant and Vice-Captain of the Sixth Division, Thirteen Court Guard.”

At this, she took a moment to finally inspect Renji and take note of his uniform. She tisked her tongue as her eyes lighted on the tattoos at his neck. “I see. You need a haircut.”

“What?”

“You’re a disgrace to my family’s division looking like that. You’re lucky I didn’t call security to report a break-in,” she sniffed.

“You’re the trespasser here, lady. You’re lucky I don’t toss you out on your ass.”

“Oh, I say!” she breathed. A matching-blue fan suddenly appeared from the depths of her kimono sleeves to snap open to flutter in front of her face. “You’re very crude. Though, since you belong to Byakuya-chan, I can guess why. Where are you from?”

“The Sixth Division,” Renji repeated, though he knew damn well what she really wanted to know.

“Yes, yes,” the fan continued its irritated dance in front of her face. “I meant before that.”

“Before that, the Eleventh, ma’am.”

“Are you truly this dense? I’m asking what district you come from, boy.”

Renji drew himself up to his full height and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “If you’re ready to leave, ma’am, I’d be happy to tell you what you want to know. Let me show you the door.”

“My, my, Little Byakuya certainly has you well-trained.”

“Uh-huh.” Renji flexed his jaw, but nodded toward the exit. “The door, ma’am. Unless you’d prefer I take you by the arm?”

“Oh!” The color drained from her already aristocratically pale face. “You wouldn’t dare!”

He gave her his best wicked grin, and uncurled his arms as though ready to make his play. “You want to try me?”

“No, absolutely not!” she huffed. Picking up her skirts, she swirled in the direction of the exit. Renji followed, and she kept looking over her shoulder as if she thought he might pounce on her unexpectedly. At the door, he gave her a quick bow, and slid open the door for her.

“I’m from _Inuzuri_ ,” he snarled, as she crossed the threshold.

She turned slightly, and gave him a classic Kuchiki over-the-shoulder sneer. “I suspected as much. Byakuya-dear loves to pick up his little strays and bring them home. I suppose I should be grateful that for once it’s not a bitch.”

Renji had to grip the door tightly in order to not punch her in the face. Even so, he took a lot of satisfaction slamming the door closed so hard that the timbers rattled. “Fuck you, ma’am. Fuck. You.”

When he’d unclenched his fists and looked up, Byakuya was standing there. The look in the captain’s eye gave him pause. He’d violated pretty much every single rule of protocol and etiquette they’d gone over, and not just with any random noble, either. That was Byakuya’s aunt, a goddamn Kuchiki. He might as well have just flipped off the Emperor.

The captain was going to kill him.

Renji squinted, ready for whatever harsh reprimand might be coming, but instead, Byakuya said, “Renji… That was _awesome_. I wish I could’ve brought you years ago.”

 

#

 

Renji stood in front of the master bedroom door, wondering what he should do. He’d finally changed out of the stiff dress uniform into his favorite flowered, tattered robe. He’d tied his hair back into a braid and was ready for bed, but that proved to be a frustratingly complex set of problems.

The first of which was, where to sleep?

At least Renji wasn’t expected to bunk with the rest of the Kuchiki entourage in the servants’ quarters. As adjutant, he’d been afforded the dubious position of ‘manservant,’ so it was expected he’d stay in the lord’s suite to tend to Byakuya’s ‘needs.”

 _Heh, talk about a double-entendre_.

Still, despite their earlier cuddle, Renji wasn’t sure he had permission to help himself to his side of the captain’s bed. The problem was, they’d never just slept together. He gotten a snuggle before sex and had fallen asleep after sex, but they’d never just _slept_ without sex being involved.

In fact, Renji was afraid they’d gotten into a such a habit, that if he just went in there now, sex would be expected… no, required.

He hardly ever said no to sex, but sex with Byakuya was exhausting and usually kind of… weird, and, occasionally humiliating. The captain’s tastes, it turned out, veered far from ‘vanilla.’ The last time, in fact, had been little more than a command performance from Renji and there was no way he had the endurance to do anything remotely like that tonight. After the long, dusty walk and all that horrible etiquette, all Renji really wanted was sleep. And a lot of it.

The captain’s suite was large enough that, if he wanted to, he could stake out a room of his own and pull out a _shikibuton_ , a padded mattress, from the linen closet. He supposed, considering the fact that the Kuchiki auntie had earlier let herself into the suites that was the smartest thing to do. She’d really lose her bottle if she walked in on her precious nephew shacked up with a lowly _Inuzuri_ cur like himself.

He’d just made up his mind, when Byakuya’s voice called him. “Aren’t you coming to bed, Renji?”

“Uh… are you sure?” he asked through the rice paper door. “I mean, I’m not up for--”

“It’s all right. I can keep my hands to myself,” Byakuya sighed dramatically, “If I must.”

Renji found himself smiling, despite himself. He cracked open the door to stick his head in. “I don’t know, Taicho. You _do_ have a problem with that.”

Byakuya was reading in bed. He sat part way up, holding the small book in one hand, his robe falling open loosely. With his free hand he patted the other side of the bed, encouragingly.

It was the side Renji preferred. Byakuya had left room for him.

Renji smiled and, after stepping all the way into the room, softly closed the door behind him.

When Renji stood in front of the bed, Byakuya spared him a brief glance before going back to his book. Without looking at Renji, Byakuya lifted one eyebrow and said dryly, “It may be difficult to control myself, however. I have to admit to being rather stirred by how fiercely you defeated my aunt.”

“All in a day’s work,” Renji said with a modest little shrug, before pulling up the covers to crawl in next to the captain. As he settled in, Renji couldn’t help but admire how utterly handsome Byakuya was, with that flawless porcelain skin and obsidian hair. The low light in the room only seemed to heighten the effect, giving the regal lines of his face almost a glowing edge.

Maybe Renji could muster a little enthusiasm for sex, after all.

But, as promised, Byakuya dutifully kept his attention on his book. Renji tried to peer over at the words to see what sort of thing Byakuya liked to read. But, noticing his curiosity, the captain shifted the pages out of his sight line.

Renji laughed lightly. “It’s porn, isn’t it?”

“Erotica, and I’ll have you know _Kinoe no Komatsu_ is considered high art. ”

“Oi, I’ve heard of that one,” Renji snorted, pulling the covers up over his shoulders and rolling over. “It’s a picture octopus going down on a naked girl.”

“There’s more than just that woodcut,” Byakuya said. “Though, so far, there does seem to be a plethora of tentacles going into all sorts of orifices.”

“Fancy words. Still porn,” Renji insisted.

“Indeed,” Byakuya agreed.

The night was quiet and cool. So far from the bustle of the Seireitei, the only sound was the distant chirp of crickets and the soft sound as Byakuya turned a page. The silks warmed to Renji’s body almost immediately. He closed his eyes, content to sense the captain’s familiar reistsu nearby and hear the sound of his breathing.

 _Yes_ , Renji thought, as he drifted to sleep.

_This._

_Always._


End file.
